


kyrie eleison

by Hansine



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Body Worship, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:41:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27860009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hansine/pseuds/Hansine
Summary: “My son, she does not bring about bloodshed. She leads us into battle and stands with us so that we may be victorious, and avenges those who were wronged. We pray to her to show us mercy and be our strength in times of war.”
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 7
Kudos: 87





	kyrie eleison

**Author's Note:**

> I hadn’t been inspired to write at all for a while then BAM this AU decided to hit me right in the face. Without spoiling too much, the main idea is Byleth is the goddess of war and vengeance and Dimitri is the prince of Faerghus who seeks her help and would do anything and everything for vengeance and the sake of his people.
> 
> If that’s something that interests you, read along and I hope you enjoy. I’m very proud of what I came up with.

Kyrie eleison.

He prayed to any god or goddess out there willing to listen as he fled through the moss covered stone path. He wasn’t sure how but he managed to escape notice of the invaders, his heart stammering in his chest in a loud staccato as he made his way from out of the castle from the sewers. His arms and legs felt heavy but he couldn’t afford to stay, not when his survival meant he could one day restore Faerghus to glory. He could hear the bitter edge of Felix’s voice, pushing him to leave because he couldn’t fucking concentrate. The self-deprecation was obvious in Sylvain’s voice as his oldest friend shoved him through the gate and locked it from the outside. He saw the tremors in Ingrid’s body as she bade him goodbye with the shaft of her spear clutched to her chest. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever see them again but he’d make sure Edelgard’s head was hanging on the gates of a restored Fhirdiad and a bright, shining Faerghus one day and could only hope his friends would somehow make it when he came back.

Kyrie eleison.

For now, there was only one thing in his mind: to get out of the sewers and make his way to her temple. They weren’t a particularly bloodthirsty people, no, despite the importance they placed in the martial skills of their children, but now was as good a time as any to pray at her altar. He heard she was benevolent, or at least willing to listen to those in need despite her domain of warfare and vengeance. It spurred him on, the scant hope she’d look at him with pity and agree to raze his enemies down, even if it meant sacrificing himself. It was all he had left: no friends, no family. He’d spend the rest of his mortal life in servitude to her, if that was her price.

Kyrie eleison.

He could hardly stand when he finally made his way out, hand braced on a tree trunk, the other gripping Areadbhar so tightly the shaft could have broken and splintered were it not a weapon of great renown and majesty, forged through mystic arts he could only dream about. He took in a deep, full breath of fresh air, a welcome change from the damp underground, and the freshness was almost dizzying. He knew he had taken a few steps, using his weapon as a makeshift cane, before everything went black. He hoped he had made it far enough out and not die by the side of the road, lest all the sacrifices be for naught.

Kyrie eleison.

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He jolted awake, heart pounding in his ears as he took stock of his surroundings. It was light and airy, curtains made of layers of gossamer and the silks surrounding him dark and luxurious. Staring down, he noticed the clean bandages wrapped all around him and the soft linen of the pants he was clothed in. His belongings had been laid off to one side, spotless. It was a room fit for a king and he wondered who on earth could have found him.

“Ah, you’re awake.”

He turned to the door and his jaw fell open. He barely had any time to get out of the bed, stumbling as he attempted to prostrate himself before her.

“No need, Dimitri. Stand.”

Her voice was as pleasant and sweet as he had imagined, hardly befitting considering her domain but his legs were like lead and he couldn’t obey. His muscles trembled when he felt her hand on his cheek, cool and comforting, as she lifted his face and knelt in front of him. Her brow was furrowed slightly but all he could see was the gentleness of her face and the fullness of her lips. Even as a child, he had always found her beautiful, staring at the statues in her temple with awe as his father explained their family’s particular devotion to her.

_ “Dimitri, do you know why there’s a temple of Lady Byleth near our home?” _

_ He looked up at his father, staring back at him with wide, curious eyes. _

_ “No, Papa.” _

_ He gripped his father’s hand more tightly before he found himself lifted in the king’s strong arms, his gaze following where his father’s chin pointed. _

_ “My son, she does not bring about bloodshed. She leads us into battle and stands with us so that we may be victorious, and avenges those who were wronged. We pray to her to show us mercy and be our strength in times of war.” _

_ He stared curiously at the statue’s face and thought her lips had been carved into a soft, benevolent smile and her gaze warm and inviting. _

If he hadn’t already been on the ground, his legs likely would have given way when the green haired goddess before him had pressed her lips sweetly on his and pushed him down flat with her free hand. The coolness of the marble on his back gave him hardly any respite from the burning sensation on his skin.

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He wasn’t sure if he was still alive but he may as well have been dead with how the tip of her father’s spear was so close to his throat. Byleth was still on his arm, hyper aware of her presence with how she was curled into his side and pressing her chest against him. He could imagine her eyes narrowing into slits as she stared back at her father, the man’s dark golden brown eyes menacing and baleful.

“What are you doing with my daughter?”

Dimitri swallowed thickly. The fact that Byleth had only squeezed his arm more tightly didn’t help any as heat started to pool low in his belly.

“He asked for my help and I’m giving it to him.”

She sounded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“You’re not one to help most people, kid. I know you. I raised you.”

Even as Jeralt’s gaze left him, the point of the spearhead was still dangerously close to his throat.

“I uh…”

A cold shiver ran down his spine when he felt the sharp point skim his neck, the older man still staring at his daughter.

“To be honest, Sir, I don’t know why I’m here. The last thing I remember was escaping the sewers and finding myself in the forest beside the castle in Fhirdiad.”

He let go of the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding when Jeralt put his lance away, but his muscles remained tense as the older god gave him a critical once over.

“Jeralt is fine. I suspect I’ll be seeing more of you, seeing how attached she is to you.”

Dimitri let his gaze turn to his side, greeted by the wide, curious eyes of the goddess on his arm. 

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He found himself seated at the bay window, staring out into the sunset as the day drew to a close, shirtless and clothed only in similar linen pants as in the morning. He could feel the remnants of the bathwater sliding over his skin, his body still warm and muscles loose and relaxed after a long soak. His mind was wandering, trying to piece together what had happened between the time he fainted in the forest and when he woke up in this room. His thoughts were murky but he could feel his heart pulse under his touch and that was all that he needed to know. He’d find a way to get back to Fhirdiad, sooner rather than later he hoped, but for now, he was at the kindness and mercy of his hosts.

“Are you thinking about Faerghus?”

He jumped in his seat, a little bit embarrassed at having been caught unawares, before turning around to face Byleth. His breath hitched at the sight. The way the light fell on her made it seem like she was glowing.

“You wish to go back?”

His heart ached at the tone of her voice. It sounded small and afraid.

“I’d be lying if I said no, but even if I couldn’t, I wish I could do something for her. Faerghus is my home and she’s being conquered by bastards from the south.”

He doubted he was able to keep the hard edge out of his voice but who could blame him? He let his head fall forward and hang low at his admission. A strange sense of déjà vu filled him when he felt her hand on his cheek lift his face once more. He struggled to keep his expression neutral while she stood in the gap in between his legs. His heart thundered in his chest as he stared at her, Byleth ethereal in all her glory.

“I beg of you, help me.”

His voice cracked as he placed his hand on top of hers, feeling the warmth of her skin and the electricity that ran just below it.

“What do I get in return for helping?”

There was an otherworldliness to her voice that made it seem as though everything around him stopped. There was a light that emanated from her and it seemed to him it wouldn’t go away until he gave her his answer. He breathed deeply as he closed his eyes, letting his memories surface as he considered his words. He had nothing to give, nothing she didn’t already have but here she was asking anyway. There must have been something of his that she wanted that made her humor him. He steeled his resolve when he exhaled, then turned his head to kiss the palm of her hand before facing the goddess again, his eyes wide open.

“Everything I am, is yours, my Lady. A paltry offering in exchange for your benevolence but it is all I have left.”

His eyes widened when Byleth moved forward to straddle his lap and pressed his face to her chest. His senses were overwhelmed by her, the sweet scent of her skin and the furnace of her body. His ears were ringing and the heat in his belly exploded when she spoke next.

“Then pray at my altar and give me all that you are.”

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Dimitri’s head continued to spin as he laved his tongue over her folds, pressing the flat of it down at the bottom and swirling the tip of it at the top. His entire world coalesced at this point, in the service of a goddess whose soft sighs and languorous movements urged him on. She had stripped out of everything, dropping her robe and undergarments off to the side of the bed but he had remained as he was, straining against his pants and the feel of the dull ache of his knees pronounced in his mind.

“No one will enter. They know not to disturb me in my rooms.”

He stopped midway, his eyes gazing upwards to find Byleth propped up on her forearms and peering down at him with a satisfied mien. The danger of someone finding him kneeling before a naked, spread open Byleth stung him but he tamped the feelings away when she curled her fingers against the base of his skull and pushed further into her. There was a distinct sweetness to her taste, fruity almost but he couldn’t quite place it, but he resumed his ministrations and kept his head still, even as she let go of him.

“Ah! There.”

He couldn’t help but preen when she stiffened slightly under his touch, deciding to continue to work at that spot. He placed his hands on her inner thighs, soft and trembling, and spread her legs wider so he could inch closer, the resulting gasp letting him know he was doing the right thing. He pushed his tongue inside as his eyelids fell shut, focusing now on pushing her to the edge and making her see stars, ignoring the now painfully swollen and angry erection he had. He imagined just a touch with her soft hands and thin fingers would make him release but it was hers he was after.

He pushed lightly at her legs just a little bit more and felt her give way, spreading them as much as she could, before releasing his hold and pushing in three fingers inside, curling them just so, as he latched onto the bundle of nerves and made her scream. He felt her clamp down on him as he pumped his fingers in and out of her through her orgasm, dutifully drinking her in as he let her voice echo in his ears. 

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His head fell back, the crown of it nearly pressing down flat on the pillows beneath. He hadn’t expected her to pull him up to the bed and push him roughly, quickly divesting of his slacks and sinking down on him, contentment written all over her face. Her knees were digging sharply into his hips to maintain her balance as she wrapped her hands behind his neck and pulled him close. He shuddered when her lips brushed against his ear, her words a sinful promise of what was to come.

“Your turn. Be a good boy and stay still for me.”

He couldn’t have imagined how much harder he could get but he did when she asked him to be a good boy for her, Byleth twisting just a little and her hard, dusky nipples brushed against his then over his skin as she spoke. He somehow managed to register the sly smile on her face before she pushed him back down and lay her hands flat against his chest. His hands moved to her waist to keep her steady as she threw her head back, exposing the long column of her neck, and started to rise to her knees then sink back down, sheathing him completely inside, choosing a slow pace. He wanted to lift his hips and meet hers, thrusting up as she eased herself down but she had asked him to stay still and be good.

“So thick.”

The way she swivelled her hips and contracted her muscles to squeeze his hard, hot length made his vision white out and his mouth fall wide open with a soundless gasp. The wetness that surrounded him made his blood boil, heightening the sharp pain of her nails scratching his chest then digging into the meat of his muscles as she curled her fingers. He could barely see her as sweat dripped down his face and blurred his vision but felt her start to move faster, Byleth canting her hips so he could reach deeper inside.

A cord inside of him snapped and he let his head tilt as far back as it could go while tightening his grip around her waist, unable to resist the urge to thrust his hips upwards to meet her as she sank down on him. By the scream of his name on her lips, it seemed she didn’t mind. When it was all over, she collapsed on top of him, her skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat.

“You moved, Dima.”

He stared down at Byleth’s face, her lips curved into a lazy but satisfied smile. He felt something tingle beneath his skin as her hand reached up to brush his hair away from his forehead and his cheeks at the realization she had called him by a diminutive.

“I…”

He was surprised she cut him off with a kiss. When he felt his body relax, he found himself returning her affections, his hands sliding up and down her sides. He swore he heard her purr as he did so.

“Good boy. You did well.”

He felt himself twitch inside of her.

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Dimitri woke up in a cold sweat, heart racing as he struggled to breath. The dream he just had was so lifelike and he only hoped it wasn’t his mind playing tricks on him. He could see the faces of his friends, bowled over and exhausted but relieved, the dead bodies of their enemies littering the ground, mouths open and some foaming. There were other soldiers carrying their banner nearby, bone tired and weary but joyful somehow, joined by a crowd of fresh faced men and women who seem to have made it in the nick of time. It seemed that reinforcements had arrived and turned the tides of battle their way.

“Dima?”

He looked down and found Byleth rubbing her eye with the back of her hand.

“Did I wake you? My apologies.”

He had never heard his voice grow this soft with anyone, but there was something about Byleth that made him this way, never mind that he had given all of him to her. He wasn’t surprised when she didn’t answer, the goddess instead choosing to push herself up to seated and press a kiss to the curve of his shoulder before leaning her cheek there and wrapping her arms loosely around his waist.

“I… I had a dream of a hard won battle. It was tense and I thought my friends would lose, but it seemed that reinforcements arrived from the north. I’m not sure it was real,” he confessed.

“It was. I got them there.”

His eyes widened at the straightforwardness of her words.

“You begged me, Dima, so I helped.”

He felt his heart stutter when she raised her arms and curled them around his neck to pull him down along with her. He watched her smile indulgently as she took one of his hands and guided it beneath the sheets and down along her belly before stopping at the space in between her legs. Dimitri exhaled deeply through his nostrils, eyes almost crossing at the feel of her there. He moved his fingers experimentally, brushing them against her entrance, as his gaze and her hands moved upwards to her breasts, Byleth tweaking her nipples and letting her mouth fall open with soft gasps and hitched breaths. The sight made him grow hard.

“Let me.”

His voice was hoarse like a man parched, his head spinning with need and utter want. Using his free hand, he wrapped it around her wrist and brought her palm to his face, kissing the base of it before bending down and latching onto her neglected breast.

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It’s a strangely idyllic life Dimitri had found himself living since he had arrived. He spent most of his days helping out Byleth’s mother, Sitri the goddess of knowledge, with various odd tasks, training with Jeralt, who had somehow accepted him despite the rather testy exchange, and with Byleth as she trained the new warriors for the different armies of the gods. The words of his father echoed in his mind as he watched her teach and correct, that she wasn’t one for bloodshed but she was a fierce protector of those she considered her own.

“Dimitri?”

Sitri’s voice snapped him out of his daydream, his fingers stuck on the spine of a book on a particularly high shelf.

“Ah, forgive me. I was lost in thought.”

He found the way the older goddess laughed calming for some reason, like an amused mother watching her child’s silly antics.

“I’ve seen the way you look at my daughter.”

He felt his cheeks burn as he turned away, fingers brushing against the worn leather covers of the books like he was trying to make sure they were all aligned.

“I think it’s sweet. I’ve never seen anyone else like that with her.”

He looked at Sitri from the corner of his eye, trying to make sure he wasn’t caught in the process, but the way she smiled told him she saw.

“My family has had a particular devotion to her, my Lady. We have a yearly pilgrimage to her temples in Blaiddyd, Fraldarius, Gautier, Galatea, Dominic, Gaspard, Gideon, Kleiman, and Rowe.”

“I see.”

He felt her hand rest on his back briefly, a comforting gesture more than anything, before she let go and turned back to her book to let him be. Dimitri turned to face the window, in time to watch Byleth jump and swing her training sword down in a graceful arc, metal clanging as the blade met with the shield of a trainee.

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In the evenings, he shared her bed and followed her whims. He had taken to waiting for her while seated at the edge of her bed, hands clasped together instead of letting them hang uselessly at his side. His heart skipped a beat when he saw the edge of her camisole skimming the tops of her thighs, the luster of the silk shining in the low light of the night sky. He felt her hands on his face as she lifted his head. She always looked so kind and gentle in his eyes and he let her push him back on her bed as she sat down on his lap, her thighs pressing firmly against his side.

His eyes fell shut when she draped herself over him, her hands squeezing his cheeks lightly before moving away to place her forearms on either side of his head, caging him in. He breathed in the freshness of her soap and tasted the sweetness of her mouth when she kissed him. It was like an out of body experience whenever he was with her, like he could watch what they were doing as she took her pleasure from him and as he obeyed every swivel of her hips and every touch of her hands.

The way she took him in slowly as she bit down on the meat of her lower lip was a wonder to behold. Her body glowed, the moonlight streaming in through the gossamer curtains only heightened her beauty. It always took every ounce of his self-control to keep himself from finishing first. Her satisfaction was first and foremost and his hands slid up and down her sides comfortingly as she rose then sank back down before taking her hands and curling his fingers around hers while she lost herself in the tides of pleasure.

Even as she was boneless, he’d take her once more, filling her with all of him as he pushed inside and stretched her to her limits. The backs of her thighs were on his shoulders and even as he pressed an adoring kiss on both of her inner knees, he never once looked away, watching through half-lidded eyes as she reached overhead and curled her fingers into the decadent pillows beneath. Her back arched upward each time he pushed in, and a long, desperate whine fell from her lips each time he nearly completely pulled out, just leaving the tip of him inside. The last stroke was always the deepest, managing to hold onto his thoughts just long enough to go as far as he could as she cried out his name and demanded more, his lips slotting over hers as they tumbled from the stars and fell down to the earth in shared ecstasy.

_ All that I am is yours, my Lady Byleth. Use me as you please. _

He always woke up to dreams of battles past, to men and women exhausted but grateful to see another day, to victories in blue and losses in red, to shouts of joy in the cold, bitter north and screams of agony in the storied south.

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“I can hear you think, Dima.”

He tilted his head downward, watching Byleth’s fingers dance on his skin, the movement absentminded and unhurried. Guilt stabbed at his heart as he considered his life, easy and domestic, as he dragged the heavy armor on his back and Areadbhar in his hands out from beneath the castle. He lifted his gaze and let it land in the corner where his things were kept, clean and spotless with nary a speck of grime or blood on it.

“Speak. I will listen.”

He felt her push herself up to seated, her chest dragging up along his arm before she settled into place. He faced her with as neutral an expression he could manage, trying not to feel so astounded at how unabashed she was in her nakedness and vulnerability before him. Her neck was long and graceful and if he wrapped both hands around the smooth column of it, he could snap it in half but she was courageous and unafraid as she stared back at him with a determined gaze. He could only bring his hand up to her cheek and run his thumb in the space beneath her eyes in the face of her audacity. Even undressed as she was, she commanded respect far beyond he could ever demand.

“Is this all you want of me, my Lady?”

His voice trembled but he kept his hold on her. Somehow, touching her had given him some manner of strength and courage to be so bold. His eyes widened when she turned her face towards his palm and he felt her kiss by the fourth finger on his left hand. He wasn’t much of a romantic but he had heard stories of how the heart was connected there, how it meant something to wear an endless band on that finger as a sign of commitment and affection.

“Are you unsatisfied, Dimitri?”

He shivered as she spoke his name instead of calling out to him with the nickname she used. He swallowed once, twice before replying.

“I wish to do more for you.”

A strong breeze came in just as he watched the goddess in his arms push the thin sheets that covered them to straddle his lap. It was a position he often found himself in, beneath her, but one he was always willing to be in. He felt his heart stammer in his chest as the smile on her face grew wider and more indulgent.

“I’m… not unhappy. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been so lucky in my life, but I wonder if I’m not doing enough to be worthy of your help. My Lady, my country is about to win this war with your help and I can’t see how this pitiful life of mine is enough repayment.”

He nearly choked on his own breath when Byleth cut him off, pressing her lips to his and pushing him down on the bed, her hand flat on the left side of his chest. His hand dropped and fell to the swell of her hips, his fingers curling instinctively around it.

“Dimitri, you’ve given me everything you have and it is all I have ever desired.” 

Her voice had a low, thunderous quality to it that made the fine hairs on the back of his neck rise. 

“I’ve watched you grow, from a babe suckling at your mother’s breast to an eager princeling to a determined heir.”

He groaned when her grasp on him tightened.

“You prayed dutifully to me and wished for me to one day answer your prayers for a just hand should war ever come to pass.”

Even as his eyes clamped shut, the image of Byleth rising to her knees and guiding him to her entrance before hilting him fully inside was burned in his mind.

“I’ve wanted nothing more than your devotion and your heart since you’ve been here. If there’s anything left that you may wish to give me, it is that. I am more than satisfied with just a physical relationship with you, Dima, but nothing would bring me more gladness should you offer me that as well without a hint of hesitation.”

Something surged from inside of him as he flipped her over, this time caging her in. He knew there was a wildness to his eyes as his gaze dropped a bit further down, watching the still steady rise and fall of her chest as it glistened.

“My Lady…”

He bent down to kiss her, sucking in her lower lip inside his mouth.

“My Beloved.”

He whispered his declaration into her skin and felt her hand splay on the left side of his chest. Heat started to spread as she began to glow with an inner light. He could feel her magic burn into his skin, the sensation pleasant despite the heat. There was a flame-like brand left behind when she pulled her hand away, the same one that was carved all throughout the hallowed stone of her temples.

“My heart is yours, as it has always been since I had given you all that I was.”

The pleased sound she made in the back of her throat stoked the fire deep inside of him.

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He woke up one morning calm with his breathing even despite the vividness of his dream. He saw Sylvain pulling the reins of his horse tightly with his left hand as he drove the Lance of Ruin straight through Hubert’s stomach. The vision shifted to Felix shoving Edelgard off with the Aegis Shield, parrying one of her blows before feinting to the right and finding a weak spot in her armor, letting him push his sword clean through between the plates. He saw the terror in her face as she teetered backward, hands grasping the hilt like she was trying to yank it free. The savagery in her eyes was obvious and letting go of the handle with one hand, she tried to reach out as if to grab Felix and drag him with her down to hell.

His old friend had easily sidestepped the dying empress, watching her fall forward, the pommel landing squarely on debris and pushing the blade even further out her back. Blood had started to seep out of the stab wound and once her skin had started to turn blue, Felix had flipped Edelgard onto her back and pulled his sword from out of her body, flicking away her blood and staring down at her lifeless eyes.

He saw Ingrid swoop down from the skies, the sharp edge of Lúin glinting in the sun. The flap of her pegasus’ wings was loud in the stunned silence of the troops, everyone staring towards the center as they focused on Edelgard’s prone body and how Felix was barely standing straight. Sylvain and Ingrid had barely made it to him in time to hold him up and drape his arms across them as best they could while the loud cheers of the soldiers they had commanded started to ring across the battlefield. 

“What’s wrong?”

The coolness of her touch was welcome as heat simmered on his skin.

“It’s…”

He swallowed the lump in his throat down as he looked at Byleth’s face, her brow furrowed with concern.

“It’s over now, isn’t it?”

He could barely speak above a whisper, afraid of the tremor in his voice and the uncertainty of his words.

“I’m only sorry it took so long, my love.”

He closed his eyes when she pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth.

“How long has it been? It feels like it’s only been days since we first met.”

He covered her hand on his cheek with his own, leaning into her touch.

“Five years. Time passes by much more slowly here than on earth.”

“Thank you, Beloved.”

He bent his head forward as she craned her body upwards, feeling the plushness of her lips as she kissed each of his eyelids.

“Would you like to see them?”

He snapped his eyes wide open.

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There’s an awkwardness to his movements when he stepped into the castle’s main hall. It’s empty but clean, all things considered. He couldn’t believe it had been five years since he fled and the guilt of not being in battle with his people ate at him.

“Boar.”

He wasn’t even surprised to find Felix behind him, arms crossed so as to restrain himself. He couldn’t blame his old friend for wanting to punch him for having disappeared for so long.

“Felix.”

“Where the fuck have you been?”

The heaviness of how his absence weighed on Felix was palpable, even as he looked over the man’s shoulder to find Sylvain running towards them and Ingrid standing back in shock. How could he explain where he had been when he didn’t even know, just that he dreamed of their battles as he slept through the night and lived a life like any other in his waking hours?

“I can’t explain.”

“Bullshit.”

He watched as Felix’s eyes widened in surprise as he reached forward to grab him by the collar, only for his hand to pass straight through him like he wasn’t even there.

“I can’t explain where I’ve been, I don’t even know that for myself.”

His smile was bittersweet. As much as he didn’t know, the one thing he did was that that was where he belonged now. He didn’t deserve the throne in Fhirdiad after disappearing.

“I can tell you that I’ve been watching your battles and saw your victory through. She said you’re very good with the sword and would like to battle you perhaps someday. Maybe you’ll give her a run for her money.”

Dimitri could feel Byleth’s pull from deep within his soul. He didn’t have much time left, she told him from the start.

“What the fuck are you talking about? You bastard come back here!”

Felix’s screams were loud in his ears.

“I leave the throne to you, my friends. I trust you’ll do what’s best for my people.”

He paused, smiling now that Ingrid had finally approached.

“They’re your people now.”

He heard their combined shout of his name and saw them reach out for him as he disappeared, like he was never there.

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The first thing he felt when he came back was Byleth’s arms wrapping around him and the coolness of the marble floor seeping into his skin despite the thick cotton of his pants as he fell down on his knees.

“Grieve, my love. You have all the time in the world.”

Her words broke the dam of his tears as he collapsed in her embrace.

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.

He found himself dreaming of the castle at Enbarr, with its scorched floors and empty halls filled with blood and debris. He should be near the throne room, if the wooden and gilded doors at the end are of any indication. There were dozens of portraits lining the walls, most of emperors and their families of centuries past and at the other end, they were filled with grand portraits of Edelgard.

There were some of her in her infancy, swaddled in red and black cloth embroidered with the two-headed eagle of Adrestia, her face calm and peaceful as any babe. Her expression was stern even as a child, her eyes wide and piercing. A wave of nostalgia overcame him when he saw the paintings of her in the uniform of house leader in Garreg Mach, memories of their shared years then coming unbidden. The last picture was of her with her ram horn-like crown and dressed in her crimson armor, Aymr in her hands, as she stood tall with a glowering expression. The coldness in her eyes and the harsh set of her jaw was immortalized in paint, and the foreboding color of her plated armor sent chills down his spine.

He was about to reach out to touch the frame when everything suddenly shifted and warped before turning black. When he opened his eyes, he was flat on his back with his arm stretched out towards the ceiling, heart strangely at ease despite the death of his stepsister. He should have felt some sadness, at least for the innocence of their childhood, but how could he when she was behind the death of his family and the destruction of Faerghus? He inhaled deeply, holding the breath at the top of his lungs before exhaling slowly, taking care not to move the woman in his arms.

.

.

.

.

“You’re moving better.”

He looked up, Jeralt standing in front of him and blocking the harsh light of the sun that was making him squint through their spar. The god’s hand was outstretched and he took it, letting his body go through the motions of being yanked up to standing.

“Something happened.”

Dimitri nodded as he stabbed the tip of the practice spear on the ground so he could lean on the shaft for balance. Over Jeralt’s shoulder, he could see Sitri waving at them as Byleth set out the tableware. It was a domestic sight he would never tire of.

“Something did.”

“Good.”

He coughed a little when Jeralt slapped him on the back and turned him around, leading the way back to where they were going to have lunch.

“We’ll pick up after we eat. I can’t have you losing just because you were hungry.”

For the first time in a long time, Dimitri laughed, tears forming at the corner of his eyes as he nodded.

.

.

.

.

“Can I ask you something?”

The thin sheets on them somehow managed to provide a modicum of modesty, even with Byleth on top of him, the hand resting on his chest covering the flame-like mark that showed him as hers. Her quiet hum and the light kiss she pressed on his cheek told him she was listening.

“Am I dead?”

He felt her stiffen but he chased her worries away with a kiss to her forehead and his hands gripping her gently.

“Felix couldn’t touch me when I visited. I didn’t think that would happen.”

“You were almost dead when I found you. Your wounds were great and it was a miracle you made it out at all.”

He had figured as much, remembering how heavy his body felt as he willed himself along and the sharp freshness of the air he hadn’t expected when he finally made it out.

“I was about to heal you when I heard you call out my name and beg for my mercy, so I brought you here. As we passed through the barrier between our worlds, you ceased to be.”

His heart squeezed at her confession. He held the back of her head, tilting it slightly before bending down to kiss her.

“You’re not mad?”

He felt her lips move against his when he pulled away slightly.

“I can’t say I don’t miss Fhirdiad but I’m happy here.”

He moved his hand to cup her cheek, rubbing his thumb on the space beneath her eye.

“Meeting you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you know.”

He smiled as he watched her cheeks turn pink. Feeling daring, he flipped her over, pulling the cotton between them aside with his free hand, heart thrumming when she draped her arms around his neck.

“Now, though, I’d like to worship at the altar of my beloved goddess if she’d allow.”

He moved his face close to her and let the warm of his breath fan over her skin.

“ _ Please _ .”

He felt the soft curves of her body fit against the hard planes of his.

.

.

.

.

Dimitri watched, amused, as their children ran around and chased after each other, laughing. There was much fanfare and rejoicing when their twins were born, Nikolai Leonce ahead of his sister Alina Victoria by a few minutes. It had been so long since there were new deities born of old ones. He had learned many had been transformed from mortals to gods much like he had, taking the moon and the hunt as his domain. Not long after, they were blessed with another youngling, Sofia Gabrielle, who took to her grandmother like a duck to water, quiet and reserved but babbling happily in the library. His smile grew even wider when they caught sight of him, the three deciding to run into his arms as he crouched low to meet them halfway.

“Papa!”

A bit of his breath knocked out of his lungs when they threw themselves at him, Dimitri sweeping them into his arms in a tight embrace.

“Can we visit your homeland, please? Mama says it’s white and sparkling!”

He felt Byleth’s hands on his shoulder as Alina spoke, her green blue eyes wide and curious.

“We want to see where you grew up, Papa.”

Sofia’s voice was softer but no less excited.

“And pay our respects to grandfather and grandmother.”

Nikolai’s tone was solemn and serious.

Dimitri’s heart melted at the pleas of his children as he felt the squeeze of Byleth’s hand.

“There’s nothing I’d like more.”

.

.

.

.

The pilgrimage to the temples of the Lady Byleth was a time honored tradition and the youngest of the princes was old enough to join this time around. He fidgeted in his seat the entire ride and jumped down from the carriage once they had arrived, his raven hair flying in the wind and his amber eyes sparkling with excitement. He made his way up to the statue at the end of the central aisle, stopping short of the steps that led to the base. He reached his hand out as if he wanted to touch the hem of the goddess’ robes, but focused his gaze on her face.

She was smiling down at them with kind eyes, her hand raised high and held by a man who looked very much like the one meant to be king before it fell to Fraldarius blood. It had been a thousand years since he was last seen and if it weren’t for the portraits and the tales passed down from King Felix the First, Margrave Sylvain Gautier, and Countess Ingrid Galatea, the stories would have been lost to the passage of time.

“Hugo!”

He jumped in place as he turned to face his father, his voice stern but not unkind. He gulped quietly and waited for the king to approach.

“I wanted to see the statues,” Hugo said quietly, hanging his head. His eyes widened when he felt his father’s large hands around him as he was lifted up. He twisted in place to look at the statues once more, happiness exuding from the pair of them.

_ You look very much like the Felix I knew, Hugo. _

“Did you hear that, Papa?”

His father leaned back a little and looked around.

“Heard what, Hugo?”

_ The Lady bless you and keep you; make her face shine on you and be gracious to you. May the Lady turn her face toward you and bring you everlasting peace _ .

Hugo shook his head but the memory of the blessing remained, like it was a secret between him and the moon god.

“It’s nothing. Maybe it was the wind.”

A gentle breeze blew past, joined by the soft footsteps of their family making their way towards them.

**Author's Note:**

> Wew. I didn’t think I’d write this entire thing in basically two days but guess that’s what inspiration does to you. I was wondering what to write about next then the idea of Byleth being the goddess of war and vengeance and Faerghus being conquered by Edelgard and her forces with Dimitri having to flee to avoid being killed hit me and willing to offer anything and everything he had for vengeance for his people.
> 
> The fic is called _kyrie eleison_ (which roughly translates to [”Lord, have mercy”](https://www.dictionary.com/browse/kyrie-eleison)) because he begs for Byleth to show him and his people mercy and bring them to victory.
> 
> I was actually expecting this fic to be darker/ more violent but it kind of became something of a series of lucid dreams and Dimitri worshipping Byleth. Who’s to complain. Certainly not me.
> 
> I’ve also always wanted to include kids in their future and thought of names for them already but I never really wrote anything where they fit right in until this one. Nikolai and Alina are twins, Nikolai being just a little bit older, and Sofia is their younger sister. I also decided that Dimitri kind of takes a role similar to Artemis because of his route (Azure Moon) and the gifts that he likes involve weapons and even hunting (the riding boots).
> 
> I looked up the meanings of the names of the Dimileth kids from [here](https://www.momjunction.com/baby-names/).
> 
> So you don’t have to look them up yourself, here they are:
> 
> Nikolai (Victorious triumph of the people); Leonce (Lion)  
> Alina (Russian, Beautiful, Bright); Victoria (Victory, conquer)  
> Sofia (Greek, Wisdom, a wise woman); Gabrielle (God is my strength)
> 
> The blessing at the end is a modified version of the blessing God told Moses to have Aaron and his sons bless the children of Israel with ([Numbers 6:24-26](https://www.learnreligions.com/benediction-may-the-lord-bless-you-700494)).
> 
> Your kudos and comments are my lifeblood <3
> 
> You can come yell at me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/isannacchi)!


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